Oh, yes,--very much," replied Annie, cuddling cosily between her new
Papa and Brother.

"Isn't she pretty?" whispered Rupert to his father. "None of the other
fellows at our school have got such a pretty sister as she is. And she's
a jolly little thing, too," he added confidentially.

Mrs. Grant had grown a little anxious about the first meeting. "If we
_should_ be disappointed!" she thought. But when the carriage drove up
and her husband lifted Annie out, a glance made her easy. "I can love
that child," she said to herself, and her embrace was so warm that Annie
rested in her arms with the feeling that here was real home and a real
Mamma, and that England was just as nice as America.

You can guess how she enjoyed the lawn with its roses, and the beautiful
river. Fresh from the poor little cabin on the hill-top, she
nevertheless fell with the greatest ease into the ways and habits of her
new life. It did not puzzle or disturb her in the least to live in
large rooms, be waited on by servants, or have nice things about her;
she took to all these naturally. For a few days Mr. and Mrs. Grant
watched with some anxiety, fearing to discover a flaw in their treasure,
but no flaw appeared. Not that Annie was faultless, but hers were honest
little faults; there was nothing hidden or concealed in her character,
and in a short time her new friends had learned to trust her and to love
her entirely.

So here was our little girl fairly settled in England, with dainty
dresses to wear, a governess coming every day to give her lessons,
masters in French and music, a carriage to ride in, and half a dozen
people at least ready to pet and make much of her all the time. Do you
think she was happier than she had been before? How could she be? One
cannot be more than happy. She was happy then, she was happy now,--no
more, no less.

Rupert used to talk to her sometimes about that old life, which seemed
to him so strange and dismal.

"How you must have hated it!" he said once. "I can't bear to have you
tell me any more. What's corn-meal? It sounds very nasty! And didn't you
have anybody to play with, not anybody at all, or any fun, ever?"

"Fun!" cried Annie; "I should think so! Why, Rupert, our woods were full
of squirrels. Such dear little things!--you never saw such pretty
squirrels. One of them got so tamed that he used to eat out of my hand.
His name was Torpedo. I named him myself. Then there was Beppo, the
dearest dog! I wish you